The Lost Islands
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Peak

The Prime Minister

Khar'pern

The Codebreaker

Ashteroth

The General

Marceline

The Companions

None None None

The Thinkers

Naydra
Titan

The Politicians

Ararat
Axelle
Hollis
Mae
Nashira
Serenity

The Warriors

Clarity
Kaeja
Lysimache
Starling

The Trinkets

Beloved
Cato
Cullen
Güneşlenmek
Isengrim
Jigsaw
Kazimir
Octavius
Starscream
Yıldırım

PRIME MINISTER'S DECREE

"None." - Leader

The Offspring

Diccon (Cicada x Khar'pern)

Rules

• The Vulcan Peak is where homeless mares come to live as a sisterhood. Stallions may not live here except as captives or companions for the Leaders.

• Warriors keep mainly to fighting, Thinkers keep mainly to raiding, and Politicians may do both, neither, or act as diplomats. Members may issue their own battles and raids, but should generally consult the General, Codebreaker or Prime Minister for permission.

• All major decisions are determined by vote, but the Prime Minister maintains order within the Peak and has the final say.

• Elections for leadership positions will be held every TLI summer, provided the qualifying criteria are met.

• You can find detailed information about how the Peak works on the Rules page.

YOU LEFT ME IN THE DARK

IMPAZIENZA

It took the mare a moment to respond, but Impa was not bothered by her hesitation. Silence could be very telling and she made the best of it by observing her companion a bit more closely. Tall and stocky, yes, but also feathered near the hooves and featuring strong, sloping shoulders and hindquarters. She was obviously of the same breed as the horses Impa had met in the Arch when she was a girl, although the other mare’s bearing was much more open and friendly than anyone Impa could recall meeting in that hellish half-lit place. The cold there had been painful and endless. Winter was her favorite season, yes, but not when it was associated with Het Vuur’s home.

The cold season was still very far away, however, and Impa released a shallow sigh as the black mare began to speak. “If we’re lucky the air will be a little cooler, too,” she said with a smile as she turned and began to descend the mountain. The draft mare glanced over her shoulder and grinned at Inka. “Ha! Really? I go by Impa. Is that your nickname then, too?” She let the question hang as they walked, one ear tilted toward her companion as they headed for the river. It wasn’t that far away from the field they had just left, but in the day’s heat the distance between them and the cool water seemed far too long.

Impa smelled it before she saw it winking in the sunlight ahead. The ground dipped suddenly before it leveled out and led to the bank of the river. Higher up the Peak, the river was more of a stream, and she knew there were some caves that must host an underground spring— they were too small for any horse to investigate, much less one of her size, but that seemed to be where the water for the Falls originated. This part of the river was wide and moved lazily down the Peak’s face. It was a popular place for the mountain herd to congregate: secluded from the water source at the base of the Peak and, thank the stars, dotted with a generous scattering of trees and lush undergrowth at the shores of the water. The black mare picked up her heavy feet and trotted to the water, splashing into it up to her knees before she dunked her muzzle to drink deeply.

“So,” she said after she lifted her muzzle from the river, flicking her ears toward Inka and seriously considering indulging in a nice roll right in the shallows once her companion had slaked her thirst. “How long’ve you been at the Peak? I know I’ve been in and out lately but I’d like to think I’m fairly observant. I’m surprised we haven’t met until now.”

17’3 BLACK BLANKET DRAFT MUTT MARE


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